


I Think I Need Help

by Devidoodle (MadameDevo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Drugging, M/M, Torture, force, knife, non con, pretty much dark, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameDevo/pseuds/Devidoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Dean drugs Sam when Lucifer won't let him sleep? Crowley takes advantage!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I Need Help

**Author's Note:**

> This was for tumblr user psychodelicunicron.
> 
> Please leave a kudo or comment if you like :)

It had been three days. Three days since the last time Dean had seen Sam sleep. It had probably been much longer knowing how good his brother had gotten at hiding things from him. Sam wouldn’t tell him about this crazy insomnia for whatever reason, so Dean had taken things into his own hands.

He was currently holding two beers in his hand, one normal for himself and one dosed with four extra strength sleep-aids for Sammy. The taller man took the offered beer distractedly, and took a large swig immediately before setting it down beside him as he worked. 

“Come on Sammy, give it a rest and come eat.”

“I feel like I’m close to finding something, give me a minute.”

“Don’t make me drag you, you know I will. Just because you’re bigger than me now doesn’t mean I can’t manhandle you if I need to,” Dean warned.

“Alright! Jeez,” Sam said exasperatedly. Abandoning his search, Sam moved to his bed to eat, bringing his beer with him. They chatted a bit about their current case as they ate, and Dean started to wonder whether this was going to work. Three quarters of the beer was gone but Sam didn’t seem to be affected. Finally, after an hour, he had finished off his beer and stood to throw the bottle away when he staggered heavily on his feet.

“Woah there Sammy,” Dean said hopping to his feet to help his brother sit back down on the bed.

“I don’t know where this came from, but I’m dizzy all of a sudden...” He started to fall backwards and his brother helped him to lay back, taking the bottle from his hand.

“I’m sorry Sammy, but it’s for your own good. You need to sleep.”

“Wha- Dean no I can’t...” But it was too late. As he settled back into the comfortable cushioning of the bed, he felt himself dragged under, his lids slipping closed as he was ushered into sleep.

\-----------------------------------------

Sam felt his heart jolt to life and tried to sit up, only to find that he was strapped down to the table he was laying on. Panic began to rise in his throat like bile,and fighting hard to swallow it down he tried to rationally think his way out of this. All the bindings held fast and there seemed to be no weak spots. Sam couldn’t see any fastenings, and he could only assume they were under the table. Whoever had him, they were smart.

It seemed like hours of laying there in silence, and Sam did his best to assess his location based on his surroundings. However, the dingy cobblestone room and medical supplies offered little help, and he couldn’t hear anything aside from his own breathing and heartbeat. Finally, the door opened and Sam turned his head as much as he could manage, only to find none other than Crowley walking into the room.

“You red eyed bastard, what do you want with me now?” He growled, muscles straining as he fought against his restraints. Padlocks clinked beneath the table, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“Oh nothing much Moose, just a casual encounter before I send you back to your brother.”

“With me? Are the pickings really that slim in hell?” He asked, settling back down against the table.

“Maybe I wanted to give you your own personal hell. Did you think about that Gigantor?” The demon flicked his hand and the restraints broke away, but Sam still couldn’t move. An unseen force was holding him against the table. Crowley stalked forward, moving around the table with a knife glittering in his grasp. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared at the sight of it. Crowley laughed as he drew the knife up from Sam’s beltline to his chest. “You’re right to be frightened Sam.”

With a few deft cuts, he sliced through the taller man’s clothes, effectively leaving him nude on the table. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the unseen force holding him down to try and cover himself. The force didn’t budge and his hands stayed pressed against the table, clenching themselves into fists. Crowley chuckled at the other’s attempts and took a few steps back to look over the sensual sin before him.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sasquatch.” The older man said, taking the tip of his knife and running it up the hollow of Sam’s throat, “And now I want this...” he gestured with his free hand to the brunette’s exposed body. “Kneeling before me.”

Crowley backed up and sat on a large opulent throne that seemed to have materialized from nothing. “Now Sammy, come kneel at my feet like a good little moose shall you?”

When Sam found he could turn his head he raised up what little he could to spit at the man. The saliva rained down on Crowley’s shiny shoe, and the demon carefully rearranged his face into one of collected anger. 

“You’re going to regret that.” He slipped off of his seat, shoes tapping loudly against the floor as he moved back to Sam’s side. The knife glinted in his hands once more, catching the light as the older man slipped it between the second and third rib in the brunette’s side. Viscous blood bubbled up around the knife’s hilt, running in rivulets down Sam’s side to pool on the table beneath him.

Sam let out a scream that could have made blood curdle, the metal biting into his skin seemed to sear through him like it was made of pure fire. When the blade was removed, he breathed out heavily, gasping for air , his chest heaving. Sweat ran down his face as he rolled his head to face the demon once more. Through a haze of pain, he watched as the man dipped his finger in the pool of blood and brought it to his lips. The bloody digit disappeared between them, and reappeared clean a moment later. Mouth curling into a sultry smile, Crowley turned to regard the man spread out on his torture table.

Blood seemed to be everywhere, on the table and floor, smeared across the pale skin and still seeping from the open wounds. It was an absolutely gorgeous sight for a demon, and the one in question had a hard time controlling himself as he let his eyes rake over the defiled perfection before him.

“Had enough yet Sammy?” 

“Not even close.” Crowley’s brow quirked, as if he’d expected that answer all along, and sunk the knife in again. 

After what seemed like hours, under the knife, he finally broke. Sam couldn’t remember how many times he’d felt the blade plunge into his body, but each time it felt worse than the last. He couldn’t stomach the pain any more, and he found himself screaming that he would do anything just to make the pain stop. 

Hearing his words, Crowley wiped one side of the blade across his tongue, and the other on Sam’s skin.. “So glad you saw it my way, Moose.” He returned to his throne, settling in expectantly, and wiped a few missed tacky blood spots off of his precious blade. Pressing the point into his knee, he turned it back and forth, catching the light and throwing harsh patterns onto the wall. “Now, come kneel at my feet.”

All at once Sam felt the pressure on his body give way, and he rolled off the table, landing on the stone floor in a heap. Never in his life had he believed he would be kneeling beside a demon, totally at his mercy, but for some reason, he hadn’t been able to block out the pain like he normally did. He took a moment to steel himself and catch his breath before moving to Crowley’s side. Half walking and half stumbling, he made it there with what was left of his pride still in tact, and sank to his knees carefully, eyes never leaving the demon before him. 

“Good, Now see, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Crowley ruffled Sam’s dark hair and reached beside his throne for something. Suddenly, a thick leather collar was slipped around the Winchester’s throat, a sharp tug given to the leash, to make sure it was fitted properly. Sam gave an irritated huff, and was rewarded with a warning slap to the face.

“Now, now, no complaining.” Crowley said with mock sincerity. Now that the collar was in place and fitted correctly, his hands moved to perform their next task. Sam’s eyes had slipped closed, trying to block out the pain of another sharp slice of the knife. However, when none came, he peeked through his lashes at Crowley to find him staring intently back.

Suddenly a hand twisted in his hair hard, pulling it at the roots and guiding his head to look down, where a very aroused and engorged cock stood proudly away from the demon’s hips. “I’m sure you know what to do here,” came the thick brogue from above him.

“If you think I’m even touch- AH!” The searing knife sunk hilt deep into him again, this time on his back. The untouched skin seemed to burn even worse this time, driving black spikes around the edge of his vision. With his mouth open in pain, Crowley took the opportunity to slip himself inside of the young Winchester’s mouth, pressing all the way down his throat with one movement.

Sam gagged, his throat trying to push out the invader, but the hand at the back of his head was unrelenting, and merely pushed him down further. His head was manipulated this way and that, starting out with a swift bobbing motion causing the leash and collar to jingle against his throat, then slowing to a gentle roll. The demon was moaning, his deep, gravely voice penetrating through the brunette’s mind. It was a sound Sam wasn’t soon going to forget. He just knew he’d be tormented by it during the sleepless nights that were sure to follow. 

Crowley took his time, really savoring the feel of his enemy’s mouth. He would give an experimental tug on the leash every now and then, even releasing Sam’s hair at one point to hook a few fingers in the collar and use it as leverage. By the time he was speeding towards the edge at a pace he couldn’t stop, Sam couldn’t feel more disgusted with himself if he tried. 

“Alright, Moose.” came the bit off words of his captor, “Open wide.” The unseen force from earlier gripped at his jaw, pulling it downwards as the older man stroked himself fast, grasping for his orgasm with mad fervor. Sam closed his eyes tight, not wanting to add any more images for his worst nightmares, when the first stream of semen caught him by surprise.

It burned, as if a star were burning deep inside of the man, and with each tremor of Crowley’s body, Sam squeezed his lids together harder. He wanted to wipe it away, remove the fiery evidence from his face, but neither hand could budge. Self hatred hung herself around the younger man then, like a badge, proclaiming to all who would see that Sam Winchester had lost his pride. 

The demon leaned forward, his devilish lips playing over the brunette’s ear as he spoke, “Remember that Sam, I know I will.”

\-------------------------------

Suddenly, Sam sat up in bed, gasping harshly, and wiping at his face with his now free hands. Had it really happened? He looked around, seeing the shitty hotel room, the piles of burger wrappers, and beer bottles, then finally, a smug looking Dean.

“Morning Sunshine. Sleep good?” 

“Dean... what..” he was still too out of it to quite comprehend what had happened. He hadn’t been able to sleep for a week, the personification of Lucifer had seen to that. Yet here he was, tucked into the hotel bed like a child.

“Don’t get your panties in a bind Sammy, I gave you some sleeping pills to knock you out. You were a wreck.”

“Dean... You...” he pushed at the headache threatening to make itself known as he stood, intent on taking a shower to wash away the horrid stench of the dream that still hung around him, “Don’t ever drug me again alright?” 

He made his way to the bathroom before he turned around, “At least not without my permission.” He added, and closed the door. He heard Dean’s mumbled reply but couldn’t make out the words. Deciding it wasn’t important anyway, he ignored his brother, turning instead to the mirror. What he saw made fury and panic rise up within him. 

There in his hair was a clump that had stuck together with something viscous and white. Sam attempted to pull it out, but quickly became too nauseated to continue. Gripping the sides of the sink, he promptly vomited the contents of his stomach. Once the heaving of his muscles stopped, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned the water on to wash the sick down the drain. Looking up into the mirror again, he felt another wave threaten to surface until he looked away. That all had to have been a dream right?

Leaning over, he switched on the shower, turning it as hot as it would go, trying not to think about whether everything that had happened had truly been a dream or not. A soft knock startled him out of his fog, and his brother’s voice filtered through the door.

“Hey, Sammy, are you alright in there?”

“No Dean,” he finally answered, “I think I need help...”


End file.
